"THERE HE WAS HOLDING HIS HAND OUT"
=voice=
God, can I hold your hand and follow you?
"Gods voice"
My child, it is I who will walk with you! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across earth. Your love and devotion are what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You ran to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles and tribulations. We could not speak, it was my light that kept you from going weak.
=voice=
God, are you a dream of beauty? The holy book.
My preacher spoke of the afterlife, calling it paradise.
I remember now, I felt this company once before, this light.
Many times, I forsake the light and still you never left my door.
I felt it on the day I was born,
the day I became baptized in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it once more?
Lord pleases clarify the day I fell down to my knees, accepted Jesus as my savior?
On that day, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my failures’.
Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"
"Gods voice"
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road. This light never left you.
My sweet child did you not listen,
Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible.
My child, you were not searching for the right answers.
=voice=
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray enough?
"Gods voice"
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself,
I always answered even when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your soul's disguises.
=voice=
Lord, I have other questions to ask.
What should I expect out of my personal sins?
My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence--
How is it that I am in your promise land?
"Gods voice"
Getting right with me has brought you here!
=voice=
One more question My Heavenly Father
Can I see My Daughter, Mothers, Sisters, family, and friends?
<3

ANDREA DIETRICH
BORN IN IOWA
[1955]
WAS THE YEAR I FELL IN LOVE WITH THE 'CHEVY'
DID MY FIRST 'RUNAWAY'... (HITCHING A FREIGHT TRAIN TO TEXAS)
DRANK MY FIRST SHOT OF WHISKEY...THEN WASHED IT DOWN WITH A BEER
I WAS TEN...WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR
WHEN ANDREA WAS TEN..
SHE WAS MOST LIKELY
RUNNING THROUGH A MEADOW...IN PURSUIT OF HER CAT
AND STILL IN LOVE WITH 'MIGHTY MOUSE'... SHE HAS CONFESSED ME THAT
EVENTUALLY GROWING UP... SHE ATTENDED BYU...
MARRIED...AND NOW TEACHES ENGLISH TO STUDENTS FROM FOREIGN LANDS
I IN TURN ATTENDED THE 'SCHOOL OF HARD KNOCKS'
LEARNING HOW TO SURVIVE ...DOING 'MANUEL LEYBA's' SISTER
MUCKING OUT STABLES ...AND A FEW CUCKOO CLOCKS
SURELY...UNLIKELY FRIENDS...YET...SEEMS THAT WE ARE
BOTH POSTING POEMS AT THIS SITE...HER'S... EXQUISITE AND REFINED
MINE...I STRUGGLE THROUGH... MAKING DO
I KNOW I DON'T DESERVE A LADY OF HER CALIBER, CALLING ME 'FRIEND'
BUT A FEW HERE DO
THAT IS HER LEGACY HERE...BESIDES HER LEGENDARY STATUS
TREATING US ALL HERE... TO HER INDELIBLE GRACE:'GRATIS'

I saw how martyrs longed for love, and so began the play of my flitting heart
A strange girl had I become, with airs of fickle dream,
My heart an embodiment of wonder to all that dared to behold it
Closing my eyes, I would find myself knowing something new would shine my way
Had I known what was coming, the dawn would seem far less appealing...
As all journeys begin, a darkness began to veer its head
The plot of reality melted in dissonant chords...
Dark blue fogs of doubt caked my mind and heart
Though the longing for love never left...
And had it left, no dawn would await me
I saw there were rules setting a foundation for my intensely embarked mark
I knew if I were to feel any twinge of fire,
I must first be rid of the fog...or at the very least find my way through it
How it stung as it hit my virgin skin, not like gentle clouds talking me through it,
Caressing, surrounding and seducing. . .
No, like a poison, the bleak thickness of the doubt choking me
Reducing me to child's tears...I toiled through its torments,
I rested upon rough rocks of rhetorics
Admiring their vitality and honesty...
At one point in time I had convinced myself that I was one of them
A rock- cold, rough... hardened and overlooked...destined to crumble
Though more demands surfaced on this quest for love's Justice
Weakened by the blue fogs blackening,
I cried out in the pit of my heart, surrendering before me
Words...kept so long inside...
I freed them from the strongholds of my darkest nights
And soon there was a deep, hypnotizing reply...
Justice, tall and proud, said from above the sinking pit,
"True, I have seen you before,
A token of adoration you have become,
Crying night after night in melodious black,
With little to take, and everything to give...
My demands are simple, as your longing is profound,
You, yes, you! Take my hand so I may hold you tightly..."
My mouth agape, I stretched out my hand to meet the vines of his fingers
Clutching in sparks, he breathed into me life... and promise of love
"Surrender your heart to the hope of love
When you find you are not alone, as none of you are,
When you praise with your singsong words that passion has altered,
Giving all to a soul you have yet to see,
You shall feel my hand lift you as I do now...
Soon once more, you shall learn- the dawn will always be dawn
And the night will always be your velvet pathway to Beyond."
This, Justice proclaimed in the voice of a thousand cries of birth
The overtones spilling out in rainbows of rapture
It was soon after his visit, I knew I must perform...
Surrender, faith, and action Three keys to the same door...
And they, golden and alight, were in my hands to use
The time came when my heart grew roses, thorns and all
And hearts smashed their way through, though I cherished the burn...
Fogs still lingered in the alleyway of fear
And now I knew not to inch my way near
For the punishment he had whispered like darts in my ear,
"If you, now seeing the truth, dismember your heart,
I will crush your petals into black abyss,
I will reduce you to dust, leaving the thorns,
I am animal in the face of failure,
My tolerance for hate is shorter than an ant beholding a mountain
And if you so much as reject my call,
Hate is exactly what I will allow,
And it will destroy you, oh singing heart..."
This I ask of Justice, on the day of my calling, and yet still today... -
"Tell me, oh spirit,
Phantom of Epiphany,
When the love I so long for locks tightly upon me,
Becoming me,
Shall it be as I dreamed,
Or shall I be wholly disappointed,
Left in the agony of reality,
Where roses grow, thorns and all...
Only to wither...and die...
?"
He was so gentle...that he merely smiled and left me...
It was right away, soon after his departure,
That I felt he never would fully leave...
He allowed me to weave my own dreams,
Finding out for myself if reality was truly as magical as they write
And as for an answer, as dull as this may sound... it is...
I, like many tearful martyrs before me,
Continue to long for a love that will fulfill me
Often reality teases me, and I know not if she is demon or angel
Though one day, I will see reality is on my side, ugly or not
The play of my flitting heart still beating its rhythmic drums
The rainbows of overtones lulling me into ecstasy,
As I see words of wisdom thriving in the hands that save
This, though little, I know-
Love is justice of reward beyond our wildest dreams
He sings to us every night, never making promises...
He just smiles and allows us to live it
He allows us to discover, and in turn give...
To enlighten others still trapped in the ruts of fog
Once we feel it, there is no turning back
Please do not let him crush those roses you have made...
Even their foundations were meant to reach the skies
Touching the brightest dawn...and Beyond..
-For Justin Bordner's "Love Justice" Contest
Love you loads, and thank you immensely for inspiring me!

It was a lovely summer
the garden was filled with butterflies.
Whammy the caterpillar was full of joy.
He climbed the tallest stalk in the flower bed.
Maybe he could see the beautiful butterflies.
They might even play with him.
“Hello” he said
as he greeted a very colorful flutter by.
Poor Whammy was in for a huge disappointment.
She laughed at him,
called to all her butterfly friends.
She ridiculed Whammy
she actually called him an ugly crawly thing.
If it was anyone else but Whammy
this story may have had a disastrous ending.
Whammy just slid down
found his other caterpillar friends.
They all wanted to know about the butterflies.
Whammy told his friends that the flutter bys
were even more beautiful from close.
He said he was unfortunate
he met one who was mean and shallow inside.
That night Whammy prayed.
First he prayed that the flyer he met
would find the kindness
that was surely within her.
Then he prayed for other Caterpillars
who might have the same experience.
He knew that at first he felt bad
really bad.
He felt bad for not being
as beautiful as the flyer.
Then Whammy remembered,
beauty is to be appreciated
not envied.
"Besides" Whammy thought
"I'm quite dapper myself"
as he straightened his imaginary tie
and laughed.
He wished that no creature large or small
that no life form would ever feel like less.
“If I was a butterfly I would be kind to everyone,
imagine that me a flutter by” he said out loud.
As our story ends
Whammy falls asleep.
Laughing and content
Just to be happy.
Imagine that - a scary caterpillar
becoming a beautiful butterfly?
Moral Of the story: “Attitude is Everything”.
01~11~2014
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Contest Name: Fable to the Rescue

Myself
All that I am
I could dye my hair to please you
Yet I won't
A little mascara might
Make me attractive
Although the value of my gift
Cannot be measured in wrappings
I will not sing For you
But create a harmony and hope for consonance
And I will dance With you
To the melody of our song
Accept
All that I am
I could paint you as my knight in armor
But fantasies vanish with sunrise
We could play together
Yet games must end
And the unity of the game
Will dissolve
Leaving you
And me
All that we are
And acceptance of each
Written by Carolyn Devonshire

Carolyn Devonshire-Who is she?
A great author,a widower who loved her husband so much,and a daughter who loved her father just as much.She is one of my closests friends,can easily be called family...and so lucky I am to have met her.Carolyn was one of the first soupers who always left me a comment of encouragement when i first started writing here.Our friendship grew stronger through time and so our love for poetry.
Why do i love this poem so much?
This poem from Carolyn's first book 'Visions of Devonshire'definitely speaks to my soul.
The value of who we are,isn't about how we appear to be,it isn't about making ourselves perfect,nicer,It isn't about changing our identity..Its about being who we really are.
Carolyn's gift cannot be measured in wrappings'..Its her inner beauty which makes her shine.Her friendship ,love and loyalty to others is what makes her so special.
Its not all about the outer beauty of oneself,but what is on our inside which
really makes us who we are.
The knight in shining armor,the Fantasy,the dream might vanish with sunrise,
the game will end too,leaving all that was in yesterday behind,but finding who we
are once again,and accepting each other for who we were and always will be.
Thankyou Carolyn for this poem,
Your gift lies within you.. It cannot be measured in wrappings..So true!
and the biggest thankyou is sent your way today for just being you..
Dear Gwendolyn..thanks for the brilliant idea.... Big hugs... Charma

Locked in her tower our heroine sleeps alone
This beautiful flower has been kidnapped from her throne
She stares at the moonlight then drifts off to sleep
To dream of a brave knight scaling the castles keep.
Her flaxen hair frames her delicate ivory skin
Vivid dreams of her hero reveal her beauty within
Steadfast and strong and ready to fight to the death
To rescue this beauty he will forgo his last breath.
Her chivalrous knight enters the abductors domain
Soon she'll taste the sweetness of freedom again.
His shield raised high and broadsword drawn
With every step he takes, for her hope is reborn
Caught off guard with a blow he is swept of his feet
He fights blindly on until his quest is complete
To vanquish the captors is his goal and last wish
Sweep the princess off her feet with a tender kiss
He slashes the ropes that bind her to the bed
Making passionate love for hours now they are happily wed
19th May 2014
Written By Jan Allison & Darren Watson
~submitted to Dave Wood's Imagination Contest~
Awarded 1st place - am so delighted to have won this with Darren he
is my inspiration

Thorns tearing as a soul cries out
For a magic star to appear in the Heavens
Lost in the silver of the moon face
alone inside a chandelier
star lighting crystals a rainbow of love
In each teardrop one star falls
Within thoughts dust a trail
falling water sparkling over jewels glistening
in each and every wish granted
Shimmering silver treasure
falling in love you are so beautiful
sweetly beyond this world and the next
Twinkling behind dazzling sparkles
jewels of everlasting happiness
bliss will be the joy it brings
in never ending beauty sings
Each a warm fluttering inside wings
blushing ruby red lips kissing desire
deeply turning keys passion hotly breathes
Warm with a fire burning bright
flames openly embracing you love
softly and tenderly sighs sweetly
Touching this dream a gentle warm glow
holding the heart open
to one stunning beauty of a queen

Laying here staring out across the ocean,
listening to the sound of waves roaring,
gazing up at all of the glimmering stars,
lighting up the sea like a dance floor.
Counting stars as blessings life has given me,
thanking God for each and everyone of them,
so relaxing just lying next to the shore lines,
trying to draw in the last bits of the night.
The full moon shining ever so brightly now,
and the waves calm down to a gentle splash,
a light breeze pushes softly against my skin,
I grab my sweater and drape it around me,
as I go to leave I stop and turn around,
just to admire the ocean one last time.

I'm always there, in that place that doesn't mean a thing to anyone but me. A far away
meadow where I don't have to hide all the happiness of a young girls heart. One that has
been ripped apart, so many times. I stare at all the beautiful flowers and trees of my
surroundings and let the wind gently rustle my hair. I close my eyes taking in all these
wonderful things, as I lie on the cool grass. My body mixes in with the air, and I'm blowing
past natures statues and creatures galore. I stop at the edge of a nearby pond, my body
floating softly to the ground as an eagles feather. I look deep into the sparkling image that
makes me who I am. I gracefully touch the water with my fingertips and let the water
shimmer like the stars. A white unicorn grazing near the freshly harvested hay, called out to
me. It approached me as I stood, and nuzzled my arm. I brushed its silk coat and burrowed
my face against her cool cheek. This is the reason I come to this place. To interact with the
things not known or believed in their world. Its just my own, my sound and the behind
scenes of my eyes. It's calm and peaceful, which their world is far from. I'm the only one with
the doorway to this meadow. I love going there, it's like a blanket that warms its comfort
over me when I need it the most. And when I get there, my feelings are a boat sailing to
sea, leaving me filled with perfect serenity. I'll always be there, till the end of all life, and I
know this lovely meadow will never be replaced.

Night falls, and she stood up quickly,
Brushed up swiftly, arranged her
Hair briefly yet attracted, for her
Beauty, and smooth face like the
Surface of her chest...
She walked to the door slowly,
Turned gently, and stirs at herself subtly
From head to toe, then to her mirror
Which she earlier disdained.
Her hand bag contained
Preservatives protecting her horror,
Midnight she is a terror,
Daylight, an innocent beauty,
If you see her you will want her
As your lady, to make you matrimonially busy,
And happy.
But, try her and see, you will
Have yourself to blame after burning you up like flame,
Guys in new york calls her BEACH,
After they tried, but her
Heart they never REACH.
Wall street barons see her and flee, for she stings like a bee,
And her deception, they never
Want to see.
Las Vegas Cassino is also her prey,
To most night lovers, her tentacles
She spray.
If she smile you will think she is shy,
If she talks, you hear a nightingale,
But when you look into her profile,
You will find out she is filthy and guilty,
She is the immoral beauty...

Beyond the skills of escorts
and the appeal of other playthings,
smolders the need of the soul
infused to best every man.
Twelve years have taken
the scars out of the memories,
from the last time I was
up and through
just to come down and out
to find every fairy tale
extends it’s hand
to some tragedy.
The odds don’t warrant
the time of practical effort.
Too keen to the liabilities,
always calculating ends.
It is not the demands of over
or having to start something new
rather, better to remain alone
than to be let down again.
But now I see you,
and it makes me pause
so still, with the whisper --
Are you sure?
Falls into a deafening singularity
forbidding even a scream, it’s escape.
I sit and can only see
the touch of Heaven
reaching across the Caribbean
to color your face.
As your smile holds the songs
of every dawn’s temptress,
under the soft disposition
of your eyes
rests a divine spirit’s symmetry,
smoothing features
while lensing each strand
the perfect frame.
That once moved a favored King
to murder a man, only to bring
the sword into his own house.
Enabled an army to take
a strong city with just one horse.
And enslaved the envy of Venus
to sharpen leaden arrows,
but fury slipped her hands
and bled her wrists out.
Blood clotted on the cold muck
of her grave, a suffocating cocoon.
Immersed the viewer becomes,
and timeless the window
of the heart that is God’s craft,
denying the deceiver’s forgery
of any singed carnality.
As if proximity has been given
within the mist of your perfume,
in just this one picture
of your face.

I can’t sing
I mean I can’t sing
I’ll leave the singing to Walt.
But I assume, as he assumes, as you assume, as all assume,
I love like you, love like him, love like the Lord above,
What is there? Singing? Why can’t I sing too?
Every cell and feeling that exudes from me,
Leaves an impression that I’m proud for all to see.
Every smile and gesture makes me a man,
It doesn’t always fit into my plan,
But I think the trepidation is waning,
The insecurity finally is straining.
All this time I’ve wanted to sing,
But it’s always been my failing.
I can’t sing
I mean I can’t sing
No that’s not true.
Something is different.
I no longer assume, I assure.
I don’t wander, I wonder.
I can’t fear, I fight.
I don’t love, I love YOU.
I haven’t sung because of others.
But these others are sisters and brothers.
Sometimes my voice might crack,
The beauty I may lack.
But YOU have opened my mind,
All this time I’ve been behind.
YOU have opened my eyes.
I’ve seen the pretty skies.
YOU have opened my heart,
And I’m ready to start.
YOU have opened my lung,
And I’ll be heard, and sung.

Scaling the skies and beauty of her wonder world
A fairy saw a sparkling thing down in a valley
Intrigued she flew up to it
Mesmerized she was, when she saw it
A big ,sparkling ,blue gem with lustrous shine
Thrilled by its luster ,she touched it
And woof!!!
Her magic wand disappeared
She lost her wings and all her powers
In desperation ,she touched it again and again
But to no avail
Disheartened she walked up to the nearby brook
With her head in her lap ,she started crying
Suddenly she heard a soothing music
The music of rumbling, ruffling brook
Freshly scented spring air wiped her tears
Dusky splendid skies brought her smile back
A new world was unfolding before her
Elated she was, when she walked on the dewy grass
Her eyes shone, when she saw a small pink flower, growing under a rock
Her heart skipped a beat when she touched the bark of the tree
Intoxicated by this beauty, she wandered around
And unknowingly reached back to the vicinity of the blue gem
On seeing it again ,she felt that it’s beauty had increased
Again mesmerized by its luster, she touched the gem
This time with an enlightened heart and a beautiful mind
And woof!!!
Her magic wand reappeared
Her wings and powers restored
Since night was befalling on her
She with an elated heart ,flew hastily up to her abode
Resting on her couch ,she felt something stuck to her feet
It was the fresh dewy grass
Holding the grass blade in her hand
She smiled ,as she knew
She had learned a lesson that day
Had seen a new world, a world beyond her magic
and had learned to keep her feet grounded….

Marry Your Best Friend To Get the Best of Both Worlds
Not many can claim they met their spouse in a battle of wits
much less the fabled (don't believe a word of it!) Internet.
But my uncle, he's not many. And my new aunt? Well she's a keeper.
And it wasn't love like a summer fling --- but it goes much deeper.
The rumors you heard - it's all too true - they met on Online Scrabble:
sesquipedalians by heart, but in the strictest sense, true Word Warriors.
Her last turn was an "I Do"... and when it came, he knew that he was done for:
pussyfooting through the back door, the tenacious Triple Word Score.
The date was planned - his bachelorhood canned. Compensated on Christmas day,
a wifie from Wales to tie the knot with my uncle the Stud from the Spud State.
The Red Dragon Damsel flew in (too strong to be distressed) into my uncle's country life.
(I still remember his clenched fists pouring buckets at the altar ... his first love)
And she brought her little Dragoness, too --- a fiery spark named Emily.
My job was to walk my new British cousin down the aisle,
as she whispered to me, "Should we link arms?"
And though I should have said, "What's the harm?"
instead of a rather robotic canter --- it now brings a smile.
My lovely Aunt Laura wore an eggplant dress, as if too challenge the mountain majesty
that peaked through the church window of that fine Idahoan morn.
Her glorious entry introduced by a Celtic song that would have made Enya weep,
as the vertigo of vows came to a close like a caged bird being released.
Mariah Carey's famous Christmas hit took to life --- All I Want Is You, rang true,
as they took each other's arms to dance celebrating an unlikely circumstance.
Crossing oceans to become One: she from Barry, and he from Boise.
The After Party --- filled with giggles, tears and rip-roaring stories from every point of view.
The wedding cake (believe it or not) was a Scrabble board:
one slice was Congratulations - and though a bit silly, to me it was poetry.
And my uncle - you could tell - was simply dumbfounded
as she took the words right out of his mouth
... with a crumb-filled smooch.
Written February 27th, 2016.
For the My Wedding Day Is Special Because... hosted by Olive Eloisa Guillermo
NOTE: I've never been married before, so I hope writing about my uncle's wedding instead is acceptable.

Don’t Hate
I’m just being me
From the tips of the strands of my hair
And the smile in my alluring eyes
Don’t hate, I’m just being me
And when I walk with my head held high
With every step and shakes in my curved thighs
Don’t hate, I’m just being me
Or how about when I’m not feeling too good
And I may come off heavy and strong
Don’t hate I’m just being me
Like sometimes when things are crazy and disarrayed
But I scratch and claw to get everything straight
Don’t hate I’m just being me
Even when I’m voicing my opinion
And it is important to me because I’m on a mission
Don’t hate I’m just being me
Or when I choose to do what you are too afraid to do
And my motto is you have nothing to loose
Don’t hate I’m just being me
And having the courage to move forward
After vicious storms were brought onward
Don’t hate I’m just being me

There once was a girl,
Who's name I can't tell.
To spare her the pain,
I'll just call her Belle.
Belle was a beauty
And all the beasts could see,
She was everything in a girlfriend
That they wanted theirs to be.
Belle was so trusting,
Because she was never treated wrong,
But little did she know that
Her innocence wouldn't last long.
She had two friends,
Sasha and Trevor,
And a boyfriend that she thought
She'd love forever.
Her boyfriend, Sam,
And Trevor were friends.
So this fearsome foursome
Had fun to no end.
The youngest of the four
But the smartest, she thought.
But what a friend was
Was not what she was taught.
Trevor and Belle
Would hang out all day.
She would try to be like him
In her own boyish way.
You see, the Trevor I speak of
Was King of the Beasts
And everything he wanted
Was laid at his feet.
And, although curious,
Belle stayed true to Sam
And that made Trevor feel
That he was less of a man.
One day, in a summer
5 years ago,
Belle told me something
I needed to know.
She told me what happened
The day that she ran.
The day that will forever
Be burned in the sand.
She told me what happened
When she looked over her shoulder
And saw him walking towards her
As the room grew colder.
She told me her tears
Were no match to his power.
She told me what made this beast
A coward.
She told me she screamed
And hollered and yelled
But her cries were soon muffled
By his lips, dry and pale.
She told me how she felt
The day that she was bruised.
Never in her life
Had she felt so used!
I asked her why she didn't fight
Or get tough like she does on the field.
She just said I'd never know the
Weakness that I would feel.
I couldn't help but to cry for her
As she blamed herself.
Belle had always wanted to be
The beauty on everyone's shelf.
"But not like that," she said to me,
"Not with one of my friends."
She let a tear roll down her face
As she spoke of her life's end.
Some may ask why'd she tell me;
"What made her come to you?"
I simply look at them and say,
"You don't know Belle like I do."
I know this story in great detail
And if you look real close you'll see
The tear I shed while writing this
Because...Belle is me.

I found myself shedding a tear at a train seat upon seeing the sights leaving the Wellington city train port to Woburn.
I don't mind being called a sentimental freak, if I could just have any describe more than I can the beauty that leaves
one more than enamored, bewildered and perplexed. How is it possible for nature to marry humanity and vice versa?
How does it happen when the city buildings lay backdrop to the turquoise waters of the pacific ocean and vice versa?
How does its waves recognize no rules to follow on where it comes and goes or the wind for that matter? How does the
birds play so freely as if happily almost touching the great body of water, back to air, then back again to the base
surface of the waters? How does the water vessels cruise peacefully with some other ships finding their places like
home amidst the many other small boats around? How does the sun give off its summer heat amidst the windy air?
How did I end up being in that rugged train witnessing all the massive spectacle of beauty in a country a million miles
away from my homeland? Tell me why I should help myself to a silent tear.

If only she had known.
Then maybe she would have saved you.
Maybe she wouldn't have turned her back.
So that you wouldn't have to face this all alone.
She swore to him that this would never end.
Another lie, if only he had seen this coming.
The water overflowing.
A beating heart lying exposed.
Left to die alone.
And she turned her back on you.
With zero regards for the consequences.
She only thought about herself.
And the shadows casted so thin at first.
Leading to an overwhelming darkness.
What could he have done to prevent this?
Where'd she go when he needed her the most?
Another question going unanswered.
Just look what you've done.
You place the blame on everyone but yourself.
Trying to cover up all of these lies.
Your jaded veil, a facial disguise.
You left him for the vultures to feast upon.
Oh my God.
He would give anything to escape this shattered place you made his world.
Will he ever make it out alive?
He's craving something new.
Something to open his eyes.
Sick of being drowned by a traitor in a once beautiful disguise.
I'm coming for you tonight.
You'll never make this out alive.
I'm sick of your bull####.
Unimaginable lies.
This is the death of you.
You've forgotten what it's mean to breathe.
He let you get to his heart.
He let you wrap your hands around his soul.
But now his life is in my hands, and I will break the chains of your control.
You'll never make it out alive.
You'll never You'll never make this out alive.
Is this the end?
The end of you?
I hate to say I told you so.
Don't tell me this is not what you want.
I'm taking ahold of this.
I stand in front of you, you've become a mute.
Not saying a word.
Coward.
I will set my ground.
And without a sound.
I'll pull the trigger to save a life.
He will now make this out alive.

this enchantment
it cannot be measured
it cannot be weighed
it cannot be told in time
or days
yet here it is as i'll describe
tis in my riding
tis in my play
tis in my working
each and everyday
my worship has dwindled
my real prayers are sinful
and my god is a genie
who's bottle is covered with sand
my love is the maid
Dane Anne
and thousands of suitors
have ask for her hand
all dressed like princes
in gem's and furs
lined with red and purple silk
armed with jewel encrusted stilleto's
and gold belts
capes with gold and silver
tapestry all with original designs
of family crest
Noblemen and boys
riding every kind of fanciful horse
smooth, brushed and well feed
but their confidence
is all but drained
by shear number of similar suitors
but beauty and prize
will not let them leave
and such as i but in
much lesser degree
of nobility
a commoner, a peasant, a spoiler
one who would pluck the flower
before it was meant to be plucked
one who's eyes have been challenged
beyond lust
one who's faith has come to believe
that this fair maid Dane Anne
belongs to me alone
no man has suffered
as much as i
to be over looked as a suitor
a sore in one's eye
yet no one can care more
or even try
for her hand i give all
and perhaps i'll die
for all my waken moments
find her haunting still
this magic over me
it must be her will
can such beauty cast
such an evil spell
that if thinking for
myself; i cannot tell
or is there a cupid
a godly spell
one that takes my willingness
under his own will
perhaps possessed by a spirit
who through love
can only live
empowered by my weakness
demanding that all i give
but such this state
i am
and complain, i do not
for such a gift is love
that will never be forgot

A Dream That Came True.
In my mind's eye I had seen her undress a thousand times
sending hot flashes that exploded with her moaning
Months before ever summoning the courage to speak to her
I practiced the words befitting her splendor!
She had been noticing my adoring glances as she
adjusted her skimpy bikini in the bright sun
Showing just what a man, any man would hope to see
I moved closer anticipating her charming refusal
to my shock she answered a quick yes and our date
that night was on!
I asked her to wear something sexy and she replied
how about I wear no panties?
My stammering answer made her laugh that laugh
the one that sent shivers up my spine in anticipation
It is on! We met at theatre and hardly watched the movie
for her hands were busier than mine!
A nice change to feel the heat of a woman so anxious
I almost wept with joy! What a thrill! She had kept her promise
No panties!!!
None under that sexy short skirt that had made the other men
openly lust for her charms! I saw and was amazed that this vision of
sexual beauty was actually with me!
What happened later that night you can imagine,
the earth shook, the sky fell and I heard a ringing bell!
We married two months later and it was pure sex and bliss
Non stop sex night and day.. Ahh, the memories that last a
lifetime!
Nothing that great can last forever. We burned like the Sun for
a few years and then it happened..
The crash!
My motorcycle hit a tree ,I was rushed to the hospital and woke up
three days later to discover it had been only a very vivid daydream!
My heart broke , I was sorry to have came back to the world! Then,
O' yes then in walks a vision so lovely my heart almost stopped
A new nurse. So hot the paint on the walls started melting.
Over she floats to my bedside. I sat wide eyed looking like a fool!
Awestruck with anticipation! She took my hand, took my pulse .
I fumbled for words, I fought for control. I begged for help to impress
her!
Finally, finally I felt power return and I asked her to just pinch me!
Pinch me! Let me know I am not dreaming again..
She laughed and pinched my left cheek. The lower one! I felt the earth
begin to rise. She noticed and laughed,
LAUGHED THAT LAUGH!!! That laugh!
That laugh came from those sweet lips. I begged for help and she smiled,
O' that smile!
As she turned to leave I asked her to see me again and she said yes!
I shall return in two hours to give you your bath.. Then winked at me!
Longest two hours of my life!
Then I woke up still laying beside my crashed motorcycle!
With a broken leg and shattered dream!!!
Fate can be so cruel.....
So damn cruel...... Then the door opened and I hear her say with a
smile. Time for your bath darling !!! Its late and I'll block this door!
Then she removed her clothes. Crap, dreaming again I thought...
And that is how I met my first wife. Yes she was a dream!!
Something that great never lasts, never lasts....
Robert Lindley, 11-10-2014
Dedicated to my first wife.... and some of it is even true!!!
Found this last week while rummaging around in some old files I had...

Wild Flower
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 In Death Of A Rose by Nate Spears
Rescue this sunflower
It's capable of being a ray of light
Nurture it, value it, and love it
Its petals are more delicate than they appear in sight
A wild flower it is; but it displays beauty
The facts of its species remain unknown
Its fight to reach its true potential is admired
It’ birth to existence is undetermined
It’s roots shows trauma
Its presentation brings hesitates to potential caregivers
No one's prepared to take a chance
This flower is destined to win
All earthly roots sprout from above
At some point in a life’s span; we could use a kiss or hug
He who refuses to display any element of the wild
Is merely real
An artificial representation of life
Stuck in Styrofoam surrounded by fake moss and dust
No breath, no soul, non-existence
A human being choked from an outer dimension.
Rescue this wild flower with love.

Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.
Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.
My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered.
In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised,
But it is to be called someone,
Who can be respected.
To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.

Moon
----
Once night Gretta Foster sat in the backyard,
building a rocket ship that ought to take her a-far,
she had been working day and night - tirelessly,
hammering, programming, all so dexterously.
Then when the sun arose and sparkled in the sky,
Gretta was still working, that too without a sigh,
the ship was finally built, Gretta was on cloud nine,
but going a bit farther up than that seemed rather fine.
She sat inside the cockpit, tightened her seat belt,
pushed a few buttons, with such admirable stealth,
algorithms aplenty - all perfectly aligned,
as the engine started roaring, boisterously alight.
The rocket ascended at last, it set sail yonder,
to the farthest frontier that this universe could conjure,
and after it finally left the vivid atmosphere,
Gretta was so happy, she let out a smiling tear.
Days passed and she was put in catatonic sleep,
immobile and still, immersed in lovely dreams,
suddenly with a thud, the ship had landed still,
She woke up instantly, with a newfound thrill.
She wore the lunar suit, which she had stitched herself,
opened up the bolted door and descended the metal steps,
the moment she touched ground, she turned around,
and got pleasantly surprised by what she found!
A red-hatted impish elf, sat crossed leg,
a large nosed fairy stood, munching on nutmeg,
two rabbits bowed down to the rabbit goddess,
and two more pressed her feet, in a soft caress.
Gretta walked a step and heard the elf shout,
"oh silly person, take that suit out!,
we've got oxygen, plenty of em to breathe,
that suits a waste o' time and energy!"
Gretta obeyed, and unzipped the heavy suit,
underneath she wore a dress - flowery and cute,
"good going, young child, now lemme show you,
this lovely wonderland which you dub the moon!"
And the elf was right, they met unicorns,
box-laden garden paths and joyous little fauns,
walking and talking scarecrows, nursing little crows,
small blue doll houses with chuckling gnomes.
within a crater lived a colony of werewolves,
but they were nice and fair - specially one named Ulf,
he'd give her milk and tea with chocolate biscuits,
and in order to keep her warm, red spotted mitts.
The goddess too was nice, a wise and lovely soul,
"be imaginative and create, but don't forget your goal",
she'd also give her nutmeg of such abundant variety,
her best friend was a Faun, so strong and mighty.
and the Minotaurs build Gretta a lovely home,
with a mushroom roof and walls build of foam,
"stay here with us, Gretta, you'd have a great time",
said the red-hatted elf while singing a rhyme.
Gretta thought and thought, she came to a decision,
she decided to stay for sure, she looked forward for her admission,
and from thereon, life for her was perfected,
all her dying wishes had suddenly been resurrected.

The sweet neck of her life came adorned with dazzling jewels of the ages;
jewels imbued with holy virtues, long before she was born.
She rose, alone, Venus veiled above a sparkling sea,
her love light flashing wherever she gazed.
As she spun her cosmic spiral, a tiger, hungry with anger and bitterness,
tore at the veil, hoping to claim victory—fire and passion.
Each time she dipped her head, trying to free herself from the ships of ancient
torments that lay anchored at her throat, the tiger roared for more,
devouring jewel upon jewel—fire upon fire, passion upon passion.
She lay, alone, her carotid adornment shortened by the tiger’s every move,
her virtues struck down until she was left grasping at a choker
‘round her throat, her life soon to end.
Then, in the billowing clouds of her torment, she saw Diana rising from the sea.
She stood on an iridescent ivory shell, her arrow poised to strike.
The tiger raged, but could not pierce the clouds.
A red fury filled with fire and passion shot from its hell-born eyes;
its massive jaws spewed hot saliva that set the sea on fire.
The sea itself cried out, “Golden Diana, make your arrow swift and sure;
the world in Venus is quickly fading.
Strike now, the tiger, and restore all aright!”
Even while the prayer was being uttered,
Diana’s aim proved its power as the arrow found the tiger’s heart.
In a flash, Venus was restored,
her long strand of jewels aglow,
the tiger at her side.
Together they stood in a deep, iridescent ivory shell
and made their way out to sea
with a wind that was sure and true.
All was set aright. All was free
as they sailed into the rising moon,
her Venus jewels lighting the way.
Written in contemplation of Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a
Pomegranate, One Second before Awakening, by Salvador Dali. (1944)